WHY SHE LEFT
by Patcat
Summary: Why did Barek leave?


WHY SHE LEFT

She raised her body on her left arm and watched him sleep. She liked to watch him sleep, especially in those moments when the nightmares weren't plaguing him. This was one of those moments, and, in spite of the stubble on his chin and the grey in his hair, he looked young and vulnerable. She carefully sat a pillow to support her body, leaned on it, and closely studied him. Some people, she thought, because they were hurt or damaged or warped in some way, never got beyond a certain age in some areas. From what she knew of Robert Goren's past, he'd defied incredible odds to become an exceptionally moral, intelligent, good and kind, if occasionally eccentric, man; but he was a frightened child in one respect. He was terrified of being abandoned by those closest to him, and so he closed the doors to his feelings to nearly everyone. It didn't take a brilliant psychologist to understand why he possessed that fear; his father and older brother had walked out on him; his mother had disappeared into the abyss of mental illness. Even in her short time with the Major Case Squad, Carolyn Barek had heard the rumors about the procession of tall, willowy brunettes who had moved through Goren's life, apparently unwilling or not allowed to deal with his fears.

"And," she thought. "I may not be so tall or willowy, but I'm going to leave him as well."

He stirred and murmured something; movements and sounds like those often signaled the start of a nightmare. She gently touched his chest, barely ruffling the soft, fine hair. A simple touch could calm him and keep the awful dreams away, but the dreams still took him many times, and she would wake to his distressed cries. When either she or the dreams woke him, Bobby would apologize and then turn away from her, leaving her feeling as far away from him as she did when they first met. The inches between them in the bed might as well have been the miles of a great canyon. At those moments she knew her study of psychology was a cool, professional, abstract, intellectual one; his was a matter of survival.

Ironically, it was his fear of abandonment that brought them together. Carolyn had sat next to him in the courtroom by sheer chance. As the defense attorney tortured Alex Eames with that damnable letter, Carolyn felt Bobby collapse. Almost immediately, resignation replaced the fear and loneliness she sensed from him, as if he'd expected something like the letter for a long time. She watched the quick, civil exchange between Alex and Bobby after the session, and saw the pain that remained in both detectives.

"You ok, Alex?" Carolyn asked as they waited for the court to reconvene. At that moment, Alex Eames looked less like a First Grade NYPD Detective and more like a lost young woman.

"As ok as someone who betrayed their partner can be," Alex answered sadly.

Back in the courtroom, Carolyn again sat next to Bobby.

"You ok?" she asked him.

He turned to her, and she nearly fell back at the pain in his eyes.

"I'm…yea…I'm ok," he whispered.

But he was definitely not ok and seized the first chance to slip out of the courtroom. Carolyn followed him and watched as he moved to a corner in the hall and made two phone calls. The first was quick and painless; the second long and obviously agonizing. When he finished with that call, Bobby stood for several moments and rubbed the back of his neck.

Carolyn cautiously approached him. "Goren…really…are you all right?"

He stared at the floor.

"C'mon," she said. "It's too late to go back to the office…I'll get Alex and we can get a drink."

He shook his head; he still didn't look at her. "No…right now…I can't…I can't face her."

"Goren…you know she feels horrible about this…she withdrew the letter…"

"It's…it's not her." He began to pace in the corner. "It's me…It's always me…I …"

Carolyn was suddenly terribly afraid for him.

"Come with me," she said. "You can buy me a drink."

She took his arm and pulled him away. She was surprised at how malleable he was; he seemed to want someone to tell him where to go and what to do. She got him out of the courthouse and bundled into a cab. Uncertain of where to go, she relied on the familiar and gave the driver the address of a small bar near her apartment. When they arrived, Carolyn guided him to an isolated booth. Bobby was suddenly and briefly resistant.

"Eames," he said. "I have to make sure she's all right." He moved to a corner and pulled out his phone. Carolyn tried not to watch, but she saw him struggle to control his emotions. His eyes on the floor, he returned to her.

"I…I'm not really good company," he said.

"It's ok," Carolyn said. "How is she?"

"She…" He stared at the glass of dark, amber liquid that appeared in front of him. "She feels horrible…and there's no reason for it…I did this to her…It's my fault…" He downed the glass' contents in one drink.

Carolyn's plans were vague; she thought she might get him a drink or two, make sure he was relatively ok, and send him home. But one drink became another for him, and another, and another. She didn't match him, but Carolyn consumed far more than she intended. The speed of their consumption contributed to the results, and within an hour Carolyn wasn't exactly drunk, but she also wasn't sober. Bobby was definitely past the drunk stage, but fortunately he was a pleasant drunk, or at least he'd been pleasant, even charming, after the first few drinks. The last one had sent him into a silent place, one where he sat without a word and stared into the depths of his glass. He didn't protest when she suggested they leave, or when she led him from the bar. She thought she might take him to her apartment, fill him with coffee and either send him home or let him sprawl on her couch.

There had always been a spark of attraction between them, from the moment Deakins introduced her to the other members of the Major Case Squad and Bobby nodded shyly at her. Carolyn had always been drawn to intelligent, troubled men, and Bobby's large frame and dark eyes reminded her of many of her father's best qualities. As they walked through the quiet streets, Carolyn tried to ignore her growing awareness of Bobby's physical presence, by the way he moved close to her without touching her. By the time she'd led him to her apartment, both of them had sobered up at least slightly. As she made the coffee, he prowled around her living room, occasionally pausing to examine the books on her shelves.

"How do you want your coffee?" she called from the kitchen, hoping her voice didn't sound as nervous as she felt.

"Uh…better make it black tonight." He only slightly slurred the words.

She emerged from the kitchen with two cups of coffee and found him, bent from the waste, intently examining one of her shelves.

"You read Russian?" His voice was full of admiration.

"Yea." She handed him his cup. "My Dad's family was from Eastern Europe…My Mom's Italian." She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

"My Mom…she's Italian…" He turned to look out the window. "She taught me that…and I studied Latin…so the Romance languages came to me pretty easily…but the Slavic ones…"

"Catholic boy?" She moved carefully behind him. "Catholic girl, here…The Navy blue skirt and the white blouse and the patent leather shoes…"

"Altar boy." He sipped his coffee. "Carried the cross a lot because I was so tall…"

Carolyn sensed he was still carrying several crosses. She wanted to hold this gentle, tormented man, to comfort him and absolve of whatever sins he thought he'd committed.

He turned to her, and she looked up to meet his dark, desperate eyes. He leaned forward, caught the move, and jerked back.

"I…I…should go…thank you…"

Carolyn took a deep breath and moved to block his path to the door. "It's all right, Bobby…at least finish your coffee."

He stared at the cup. "I really should…Carolyn…you've been very kind…I…" He placed the cup on her counter; he quivered with tension.

She still stood between him and the door. "Bobby…please…You're in no shape to be by yourself…"

"I…I'm in no shape to be with anyone, either," he said softly. He rubbed the back of his neck.

She took a deep breath and stepped closer to him. "You don't have to be alone, Bobby…not tonight…"

Neither knew who kissed the other first; they later agreed that they kissed each other. What followed was a blur to both Bobby and Carolyn. They flopped on her couch; his jacket and tie were gone, his shirt unbuttoned; her blouse was open. His kisses were sending sparks of passion through her body; his large, supple hands were performing equal wonders.

"Bobby…oh, God…oh…"

His mouth claimed and released hers in a move that was savage and tender. "Carolyn," he breathed against her skin. "Are you sure about this…do you really…"

She responded by grasping his face in her hands and pulling to her. "Yes…yes…want you…yes, Bobby…please…" She kissed him deeply.

Kissing and touching each other, they stumbled to her bedroom. Their clothes disappeared in a flurry of arms and legs, and Carolyn dimly registered that one of her favorite blouses was being ruined.

"I don't care," she thought. "Right now, I don't care what happens…Oh, God…if he can do this to me when he's half-drunk, what could he do when he's sober…"

Bobby wanted to get lost, to lose his pain, his shame, all sense of who and what he was. He wanted to forget the pain in Alex's eyes, even the pity in Carolyn's. He was using her, and he hated himself for it, and even hated her for allowing him to use her. But she was warm and kind and alive and at least he didn't have to go home to an empty and lonely bed. He would make sure that she would get a great deal of pleasure. "The one thing I can offer in a relationship," he thought bitterly.

Neither Carolyn nor Bobby would call what happened that night making love. Their coming together was not without affection or tenderness, but both, especially Bobby, were driven by need and desperation. Bobby clung to Carolyn, touching her body as if it could ease some terrible pain. Carolyn had never been so terrified and thrilled by a man. When she came back, her body still in spasms from its orgasm, she discovered Bobby shaking and sitting in the bed beside her.

"I'm…I'm sorry, Carolyn…so sorry…I…I…" His arms were wrapped around him and he rocked back and forth.

Carolyn pulled the covers around her. "Bobby…it's all right…You didn't do anything wrong…" She felt strangely calm, as if some part of her expected this reaction from him.

He glanced at her. "You…you're sure…I…"

"Yes," she said gently and touched him on the shoulder. "You know, you're not the only one who got something out of it."

Bobby took a deep breath and shivered. He stared for a moment at a spot on her bed. After a few moments, he turned to look at her. His eyes were guarded, Carolyn felt as if some door had just shut before her. He placed two pillows behind him and reached for her; Carolyn slipped into his arms and rested her head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, and, in spite of a slightly uneasy feeling, she was warm and safe.

"It's as if," she thought. "He's doing what he's supposed to do…What he thinks I want him to do…"

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair. His large, soft hands were warm and tender on her skin, and she wondered that a few minutes ago the same hands had created flames of pleasure on her body. "I…I'm usually a little more considerate."

"It's all right," she whispered against his chest. "You were more than considerate." She fell asleep in his arms.

She woke the next morning to find she was alone in her bed. Blinking, confused, Carolyn sat up, pulling the covers around her.

"I didn't…He wouldn't," she thought. "He wouldn't run away…"

The smell of bacon and eggs and coffee reached her. She slipped from the bed, wrapped her robe around her, and walked to the kitchen. She found Bobby, dressed in his boxers and T-shirt, cooking in her kitchen with as much ease as he examined files in the Major Case Squad.

Bobby's cop sense was in full operation. "Hey," he said with a quick glance in her direction. "Sleep well?"

She leaned against the doorframe. "Well, once I got asleep…"

He smiled at her, and she felt her insides melt. "I was going to bring you breakfast in bed…"

She smiled at him. "I'd rather watch you cook…"

His smile became a grin. "Well, I was always told that women like it when men cook."

"Only," she laughed. "If the food is good."

It was the first of many breakfasts he cooked for her. He liked to cook for her, to do things for her. When they went out, they went where she wanted to go, not because she demanded it, but because he wanted to learn about her and experience the things she enjoyed. He was a wonderful lover, physically the best, the kindest Carolyn had known. In the office he treated her with the greatest respect and courtesy; no one had an inkling of their relationship, not even Mike Logan or Alex Eames. Even on those mornings when her body still glowed and trembled from the previous night, Carolyn found that Bobby's calm and cool professionalism helped her maintain the same attitude.

It would, she thought, be easy to love him. But there were doors that he closed or refused to open. She knew something of his mother's condition from the office and the Garrett case; she knew and accepted that his Saturday mornings and frequently afternoons belonged to his mother. It was much harder to accept Bobby's refusal to tell her anything about those hours, even when they left him emotionally bleeding. There were the nightmares he refused to discuss. When she had difficult cases or arguments with her mother, she found him remarkably ready to offer her comfort, but he never came to her for similar relief. He would give, he would love, but he wouldn't take, he wouldn't allow himself to be loved.

One afternoon, at the end of what Carolyn knew was a tough case for Bobby and Alex, she passed by his desk. His eyes were dark and haunted; his body slumped with exhaustion.

"I'm here," she whispered.

He looked up at her, but his mind barely appeared to register her. "I…I'll be ok…thank you…" He turned away, firmly shutting the door to his mind.

Her heart splitting, Carolyn walked back to her desk.

"You ok?" Logan asked, puzzled at her suddenly dark mood.

"Yea," she nodded.

She studied Bobby and watched as he gazed at Alex. She looked at him, leaned forward and gently whispered something to Bobby. A hand gripped and squeezed Carolyn's heart as she saw Bobby open the door he'd just shut to her to Alex. That night, it was Alex who carefully guided Bobby out of the Major Case Squad. Carolyn knew they weren't sleeping together—or at least not in the sense of having sex. Bobby wouldn't, couldn't, do that to Alex; Carolyn knew that from what little Bobby had told her. She also knew that Alex occasionally crashed at Bobby's apartment, or, more rarely, he would stay at her home. It was not just, Carolyn thought, a matter of convenience, but of comfort.

After that realization, Carolyn found it increasingly difficult to leave aside her doubts about her and Bobby. She didn't resent Alex; it wasn't the other detective's fault that she and Bobby were soul mates and he refused to acknowledge it. But it broke her heart to witness Bobby's pain. Two nights ago she woke to Bobby's struggles to escape from a nightmare; he called for Alex to help him. She said nothing about it when she gently woke him, and he, blessedly, didn't remember it. The next day, the NYPD's counter terrorism unit extended an offer to her, and it took Carolyn only a few hours to accept it. She liked Major Case; she'd come to like Mike Logan, even if they'd never quite clicked as a team. She'd never let the personal reach the professional in her life, but she knew that if she left Bobby she wouldn't be able to stand to see the pain in those beautiful, dark eyes.

She looked down at him. "I could've loved him," she thought. "He's a good man…What happened to him…Who did this to him…Who made him think he wasn't worth caring about…Who made him think he could only give and not take…Who made him…hate…himself…" Her hand brushed against his cheek. "God help me…I do love him…But I can't…I just can't…and I can't stay in Major Case and see him every day and know I failed him…and watch him look at Alex and never tell her…"

He jerked and twisted; she started to reach for him but he bolted up. Bobby stared around the room for a moment. His wild eyes finally focused on Carolyn, and he smiled wanly.

"Sorry," he whispered and waved a large hand. "Bad dream…I didn't mean to wake you."

"I was already awake," she said. She decided to make one last attempt to reach him. "You know…you can talk to me…"

Bobby waved his hand again, as if he could wave everything away. "Oh, it's nothing…just a dream…" He gave her his most charming smile, and her heart broke. "I'll be back in a sec…" he said, and slipped out of the bed.

Carolyn pulled a T-shirt over her head. "I can't face him naked," she thought. "Not for this."

He stepped back into the room. "Are you cold?" he asked and touched the sleeve of her shirt. "I could warm you up…"

She made love with him, feeling she was both lying to and using him. But his touch, as always, sent sparks and flames through her, and she wanted to have one last memory of what he could do to her body. As they lay exhausted, their bodies intertwined, she thought "I'll miss this…I'll miss it so much…but it's not enough…We can't give each other enough…"

His head rested high on her stomach, just below her breasts; her fingers softly twirled through his hair.

"Bobby," she said gently.

He raised his head to look at her.

"I…The Counterterrorism Unit…they've offered me a position…" She decided to lead with the professional.

He looked at her with pride and interest and sat up.

"I know…I was the second choice," she said cautiously.

"The only reason they came to me first," Bobby said with a smile. "Is because I've been with the department longer…You're a much better choice…You have the qualifications…"

Carolyn reached for and pulled her T-shirt over her body. "I…I don't know about being better qualified…but it seems a good fit…"

Bobby leaned comfortably against the pillows. "Logan was just getting used to you…This'll give him another thing to complain about…And another thing for the new captain to deal with…"

"The new captain has someone in mind for Logan." Carolyn smiled. "I hear she's young…the idea of Logan as a mentor…" She shook her head. "I'll miss him…but we've never clicked…at least not like you and Eames…"

Bobby smiled at the mention of his partner's name. "Yea…but we…it's special…"

Carolyn stared at the blanket. "And…Bobby…you're a good man…and here…" She glanced around the bedroom. "You're a wonderful lover…"

He turned away from her as she spoke. "I hear a "but" coming," he said softly. She heard the tension and sadness in his voice.

"It's just…" She swallowed. "Oh, Bobby…I don't want to hurt you…"

He swung his long legs from under the covers. "I know," he said. Carolyn realized she'd heard the same quality in his voice that day in the courthouse when Alex's transfer request had been revealed. "No one ever means to hurt anyone," he said. His hand rubbed the back of his neck.

"Bobby," she said desperately. "It's just …you…"

He reached for his clothes and began to put them on.

"It's ok." His voice was flat and empty, and she wished he would yell or scream. "It…this…we never said anything about it being permanent…New things…I understand…"

"No!" Carolyn shouted. "You don't understand! Bobby…" Frustration filled her. "Why don't you let anyone care for you?"

He paused as he slipped on his socks, and a ragged sigh escaped him. "I…I…just leave it, Carolyn…"

"No. You won't share anything with me, Bobby. You always comfort me, but you never let me comfort you. You have nightmares, but you won't tell me what they're about. You won't even let me hold you…"

He was nearly dressed. "Please…Carolyn…please," he pleaded. "Please let it go…"

"No!" She clutched at his arm. "All this time…I've shared with you…You've been wonderful to me…But…nearly everything I know about you comes from someone else…I wouldn't know anything about your mother…"

Bobby shot to his feet. "Don't," he said, his voice a mixture of despair and anger. "Don't…"

"Why?" Carolyn asked. "You don't have to be alone, Bobby…"

He grabbed his jacket. "You…It's not that simple…Please, Carolyn…Let's just say goodbye…You've been very kind…very good to me…Please…"

"But not good enough for you to trust me…Not good enough for me to love you." Carolyn rose from the bed.

He stared at her. "That's not…you know that's not what…"

She stared up at him. "Have you ever let…do you let…anyone care for you…Do you trust…" Her voice lost some of its anger. "Alex…You trust Alex…You let Alex in…You love Alex…"

"No!" He shouted and spun away from her. "She's…she's my partner…my friend…but…no…no…no…" Even as he said the words of denial, Bobby realized Carolyn was right. "No…no…she's my partner…my friend…my best friend…She's good and kind and beautiful…Oh, God…no…"

His wild, dark, frightened eyes caught Carolyn's, and she reeled at the pain she saw in them. She stepped towards him carefully.

"I think," she said. "Alex may feel…the same way about you."

He stared at her. "No…she couldn't…couldn't…"

"Why not, Bobby? You're a good man…Why do you think so little of yourself? You've survived…more than survived…You're special…"

Shaking, he backed away from her. "Carolyn…Please…You don't know…"

She still stepped towards him. "Oh, God, Bobby…Who did this to you?"

Bobby raised his large hands to ward her away. "Carolyn…Please…If you care at all for me…Please don't do this…"

"Bobby," Carolyn said. "You're a good man…You deserve to be happy… Alex deserves you…"

His back was now against the wall; his hands still held her at bay. She reached for them.

"Please, Bobby," she said. "I know…I know I'm not the one who can help you…I'm sorry for that…" She gripped his hands; he made a feeble attempt to break away. "But…I want…I…please let leave with…You've been so good to me…I want to leave you with some hope…"

Silence filled the room for several minutes. Bobby's breathing eased and his body relaxed. "You…" he finally said. "You really think…Alex…" He swallowed.

"Yes," she answered. "I do."

"But…It's wrong," he whispered. "It's wrong…If I say something…If she doesn't…I'll ruin it…It'll all be gone…"

Carolyn softly touched his cheek. "You have to decide if you want to risk it, Bobby. I can't give you any guarantees."

He stood in thought for a moment and then gently pulled her to him. He held her tightly and tenderly, his head resting on hers.

"Thank you, Carolyn," he whispered. His voice was so low she imagined she felt rather than heard it. "I understand…why this has to end…I'm sorry it does…But I'm glad it happened…and I'm grateful…"

Carolyn rested in his arms; she loved the smell and feel of him. "I…I'm grateful too, Bobby…I wish…I hope…you don't have to go right away…"

He reluctantly released her from his arms. "Yea," he said sadly. "Yea I do."

He stepped to the bedroom door. "Goodbye, Carolyn…and thank you."

"Goodbye, Bobby…and thank you," she called after him.

She walked to the window and watched him leave her building and, shoulders hunched, walk down the street. "Please," she prayed. "Please let him be happy…Please, Bobby…let yourself…be happy…"

END


End file.
